Sketches
by redrccm
Summary: Steve has always loved to draw, he is drawing his very new obsession, Natasha Romanoff. His goal is to draw her smiling, a true smile. One day, after the Avengers found his sketchbook, Steve asks Natasha for permission to draw her and she becomes his muse. He has two missions, to make her smile and not to fall for her. Will he be able to accomplish both?
1. The Sketchbook

Steve had always loved to draw. Ever since he was a kid, he always carried his sketchbook around with him to wherever he might go. When he wasn't working – or when there was no one beating him up – he was drawing. At first, he drew only buildings and cars, they were not only the things the boy was interested in at the time, but also the only things he felt himself capable to draw. As he grew older, he started to draw human figures, he started with male ones and then he moved to female figures. He loved the softness of their curves, to him, a curved line was way more expressive then a straight one. His main goal was the find the right woman to draw. The one who would express everything he felt, the one who was worth drawing in all of her greatness and details.

He hadn't found that woman yet, that was, until he met Peggy. The second Steve laid eyes upon her, he had a sudden desire of drawing her, so he did what he wanted to do. He filled a sketchbook with her in every position he had seen her take, with every expression she showed. But just as quickly as she appeared in his life, she vanished. No, Steve vanished.

Women of the modern world were so different than the ones he was accustomed with, they were somehow less graceful, but so were the men, he figured it had something to do with the lack of time they had, with the frenetic rythm of the modern days. But then he saw Natasha. At first sight she looked like every other women, but her appearance deceived, she moved at her own pace in her own world and she was calm, with a cool temperament, as if she wasn't affected by the mess that surrounded her.

And for the first time in forever he felt the urge to draw again, to draw her. And Steve filled a sketchbook with drawings of her, her face, her body, her eyes, all of her and he was always perfecting his skteches trying to capture the inumerous facades of Natasha Romanoff and feeling as if he was always falling short on that task.

**~X~**

Tony had invited them to live in the Stark Tower - currently Avengers tower - and even built a floor for each one of them. One day, when Steve walked in the living room – which was also know by Bruce as Common Room – he saw one of his worst nightmares come true, all of the team sat on the couch looking at a book, his sketchbook. His breath was caught in his throat as a desperation feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach. They were so caught up in viewing the contents tat they didn't even realize he was there. Sometimes they whispered something between themselves and most nodded and muttered in approval.

He cleared his throat and everyone but Natasha gasped in surprise, "What, if I may ask, are you guys doing?"

"We were just looking at your sketches." Clint replied indifferently. Steve heard a bit of anger – or would it be jealousy- in the archer's voice as he spoke.

"Yeah, who knew the boyscout could draw?" Tony added, he seemed very amused with what he saw. Natasha had a faint blush on her cheeks.

"Thanks, guys. I guess..." Steve muttered shyly.

"Steve." Natasha said standing, he felt himself shiver involuntarily. He knew the day would come when she would find out about the drawings, he just didn't expect it to come so soon. He didn't want his life to end that soon. Her tone wasn't cold, it was menacing and her eyes blazed like flames. Why was she so angry about that? "I want to have a word with you later."

All of the Avengers whistled mocking at her words, but the look she sent them was enough to make them shut up. "I'm going out." Natasha announced them as she went to her floor to change and grab her purse. A few seconds later she left through the front door.

Steve walked to the couch where all of them were sitting and snatched his sketchbook from Stark's hands.

"I'm warning you, don't you ever go through my stuff again," Steve hissed, "I can assure you that you don't want to see me angry."

He went to his floor and he slammed the door so hars that it could be heard all over the tower.

**~X~**

Steve told J.A.R.V.I.S to tell him when Natasha arrived back in the Tower, "It doesn't matter what I'm doing, it doesn't matter if I'm taking a bath or sleeping, just tell me, please."

"Yes, Mr. Steve." The A.I replied.

It had already been two days since Natasha left and everyone but Clint was worried sick about the redhead. Steve tried to contact her every day at least three times, but she never answered her phone. He couldn't help but feel guilty, was that all because of him? because of a couple of innocent sketches? What if something happened to her?

The situation in the tower was tense. Steve felt like he couldn't walk around freely anymore, for every time he did, everyone glanced weirdly at him, as if everything that was happening was his fault, so he simply stayed in his room sketching her, as if that would help bringing her back.

**~X~**

It was the end of the third day and Steve was almost going out looking for her, when J.A.R.V.I.S announced her arrival back in the tower. Steve was sitting on her bed and he jumped quickly making his way to her floor, he wanted to speak to her before anyone else did.

Natasha and Clint were the only ones who required passwords to enter their floors, that wasn't much of a surprise since both of them were spies. Since Steve didn't know the password, he knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. It took her around five minutes and he was almost leaving, but she eventually opened the door. Natasha wore a silken robe with drawings that seemed to be Chinese. He smiled internally at the view, something more for him to draw later.

"Hi, Steve." She greeted him, her voice sounded weary and the look in her eyes too, "Please, come in."

"Hey, Nat." He said and walked in.

Unlike what he expected, her floor had almost no decoration and, besides the methodically organized files and some basic furniture, there were dozens of bottles of vodka scattered all around the room, all of them empty.

"So, Cap, what brings you here?" She asked him motioning for him to sit as she took her own seat in front of a window.

"I was worried about you, Nat. What was that all about? Running like that." He blurted.

"Steve, I'm no longer a child. It's been many years since I've learned to take care of myself, I don't need anyone to worry about me." She told him, her voice was bitter and he could almost hear how broken she was inside. Once more, he felt guilty.

"I know, Natasha, I do. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that's what friends do. Besides, it was my fault you went away, right? If I hadn't sketched you without your permission, you would've never gone away."

"Steve..." She told him looking down, he could see tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, they gathered on her eyelashes too and they seemed to shine against the light. Another scene for him to draw. "It's not your fault. Sometimes I need space, I need to disappear. It's got nothing to do with you."

Steve sighed in relief and nodded, "So, do I have your permission to draw you, ma'am?"

"Yup, I can even pose for you if you want me to." She told him looking at him again, the tears that had been there only a few moments ago had now disappeared, her eyes were smiling gently at him.

"Thanks, Nat." He smiled, "Can we start tomorrow? You can meet me in my floor or wherever you want."

"Of course. And well, you are the artist, you are the one who should decide the place." She replied.

"In my floor then." He told her and stood ready to leave. Steve could feel her eyes on him as he did so, as if she was scanning his body, "Now I have to go, good night, Natasha."

"Good night." She nodded as he made his way towards the door, "Oh, and Steve," She added when he was almost closing the door making him stop and look at her, "I'm glad you chose me as your muse."

Steve was happy and relieved. Still, he was worried about her, she almost broke down in front of him, something she never allowed herself to do and he wondered if he had gone there at the wrong time, but he shrugged it off as he made his way back to his room.

In there, he spent hours and hours drawing her face, the tears on her eyelashes and that silken robe and her before finally deciding to go to bed.


	2. Trust

Steve spent the entire day counting the seconds until it was time for him to meet with Natasha in his floor, since they hadn't exactly set the time, she could arrive at any second. He cleaned the room about three times searching for the best way of organizing his stuff until he thought it was good enough. He had spent three hours doing that. In fact, Steve didn't know why he was so anxious. It should be something normal, right? Just like the many other models he had drawn in art school – only that she was fairly more attractive.

He sat on one of the couches tapping his feet impatiently against the wooden floor. He was waiting to hear her soft knock on the door and the slightest noise on the hallway and in the elevator made his heart beat fasted with anticipation. When Natasha finally arrived at his floor, it was almost six. He fgures she had been working with Bucky. Ever since he had been brought back, Natasha and Fury had been spending a lot of time trying to recover his memories while the rest of the team did nothing.

"Hey, Nat." He greeted her with a smile.

"Hi, Steve." She smiled back, her smile was weary just as her expression.

"So, have a seat." He motioned to one of the many couches in front of a small center table where all of his drawing materials rested. She took a seat in front of him, her gaze moved from his face to the table, her beautiful dark blue eyes analyzed the table, all the material as if she was looking for some sort of threat. "How was your day?"

"Oh, it was fine." She said looking back at him. He knew that, not matter how curious he was, she wouldn't tell him what she had done. Business with Nick Fury stayed only between the two of them and no one else had the right to know.

"Well, do you want something to drink before we get started?" He asked her preparing to stand and get her a glass of whatever she wanted to drink.

"No thanks." She answered running a hand through her messy red curls putting them back in place. "So, in what position do you want to draw me in?"

"I don't know. I mean, you look way better when you're not posing for the drawing. I like your spontaneous looks better." Steve said, he could feel his cheeks growing warm as a faint blush crept over them.

"Thanks." Natasha smiled shyly and for a brief moment. So brief he couldn't capture the moment.

"Can I... Can I draw you smiling?" He asked.

"Of course." She smiled at him. It was beautiful, but it didn't look as beautiful as the other one.

"No... I want to see a real smile. A true smile, one of happiness." He told her.

Natasha looked down at her feet, "It's just that... I don't have a reason to be happy right now. So I can't give you a true smile."

"Let's find you a reason to be happy, then." He told her smiling and there was as small glimpse of happiness in her eyes for a brief second. He thought he would see a smile appear on her lips to grace her face even more, but her lips stood in a tight line.

"Steve... It's not that easy to make me smile." She warned.

"If you say so." He told her, "Then my mission is to make you smile."

"Good luck with that."

"Well, It'll take me some time to plan the dates to make you smile, so why don't we start with a simpler expression? A feeling you find it easy to express."

"Um... Okay." She nodded and assumed a thoughtful expression before it turned into an expression of pure determination. A fire lit up somewhere inside her, something he had only seen during the battle of New York.

He picked up his pad and his pencils and started drawing, doing his best to capture all her beauty, all her passion and all the sentiment she was trying to hide.

**~X~**

After he was done with drawing her, he showed her the sketch and loved to see her eyes glint in amazement as she commented on the complexity and beauty of his work. Slowly and lightly, she ran the tip of her finger over the lines, as if she was scared her touch would rip the paper apart or maybe erase his drawing.

"It's... Beautiful." She muttered as a final comment.

"Thank you, Nat." He replied, a faint smile gracing his lips.

"I don't think someone has ever managed to capture that much details of me in a drawing before and I think no one ever will." She told him, "You have a sharp eye, Steve."

"Thanks..." He wasn't good with handling compliments, especially if they were coming from Natasha. She almost never spoke to anyone even more compliment people. "Well, do you want something to drink?" He changed the subject to break the awkward silence that reigned between them.

"Yes, some water would do just fine." He stood and walked to the fridge. He could feel her gaze on his back, her eyes taking note of his every movement.

"There you go." He handed her a glass of water and she took it. Her finger brushing sightly against his.

He watched from the corner of his eyes as she sipped on the water, "I have an idea." She said then. "Why don't we watch a movie?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"Um..." Natasha seemed to think for a moment before replying, "007 Quantum of Solace."

Steve laughed at her answer and the corner of her lips twitched as she tried to repress a smile, "What? Can't I enjoy an espionage movie? I mean, it's very unrealistic, indeed, but it's good."

"I didn't say anything. Anyway, let's watch it."

She quickly went to her room and brought back the movie. "There you go." She handed it to him and Steve put it on the DVD and blu-ray player Tony had installed in his room.

They watched the movie in silence. Eventually Natasha chuckled at something, it was very unrealistic, indeed but it was still a good movie. He had no idea of when that happened, but Natasha rested her head on his shoulder, her soft red hair tickled his neck and face and he, with featherlight touch took hold of her thin waist, placing one of his hands on her hip. She fell asleep near him, he could feel her breathing turn steady and she snuggled against him searching for a more comfortable position. He didn't want to wake her up, so he slept by her side and, he couldn't help but smile at how she trusted him to the point she allowed herself to drop the guard near him.


End file.
